


the candle burns

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Ahsoka - E. K. Johnston, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka just needs a nap, Hair Brushing, Multi, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: "It's nice to have someone looking out for me," Ahsoka admits.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Breha Organa & Bail Organa, Ahsoka Tano/Breha Organa/Bail Organa
Kudos: 8





	the candle burns

**Author's Note:**

> Me, muttering on twitter a few weeks ago: I am not caught up on Clone Wars but I have seen enough spoilers to say with confidence, upon reading a line about Ahsoka learning yet another hard lesson, that I don't WANT her to learn any more hard lessons, I want her to have something NICE and maybe a NAP.
> 
> (and then I wrote this)

"Are you going to tell her, someday?" Ahsoka asks Bail. They're watching Leia and her handmaid dash around the courtyard, batting an eight-sided ball between them, trying to keep it moving while the various colored lights flicker in it, both of them laughing. Through the windows, she can see Breha walking towards them, talking to another handmaid, this one carrying a tray with something to drink balanced on it. Tea, most likely.

"Someday," Bail says. He moves his hand to cover hers, and squeezes.

Ahsoka is thankful for the warm touch. "I know you think she's too young, but... I can't help but wonder."

They've had this conversation before, many times. Ahsoka looks at Leia and sees Anakin, sees Padmé. Sees the Force. _Feels_ the Force, in the moments when she's least expecting it, even when she's tried to close that door. It used to hurt just to look at her.

Now it only hurts to look at her some of the time. She turns her hand over to wind her fingers through Bail's. "You are staying a day or two this time, right?" he asks, as Breha comes in, and the tea tray is set on the table. Ahsoka takes a deep breath, inhaling the spicy scent. Her favorite.

"Your favorite, my dear," Breha confirms with a smile, and a cup is pushed into Ahsoka's free hand before Breha takes a seat on her other side. "What have I missed?"

"I think Leia is winning, but I admit I don't know the rules of this game," Ahsoka replies. 

"I think it's a sort of keep-away," Bail says. They watch the ball arc in the air, lights flashing, the girls leaping after it. The handmaid, Shi, gets a hand out before it can hit the ground and bats it high once more. The lights flash in a way that makes both girls shout and jump after it.

"I can stay a night or two," Ahsoka says. She sips her tea. Breha settles onto the padded bench on her other side, and leans warmly against her. "I almost forget how nice it is to stand on solid ground for a while," she adds. 

The press of Breha's arm grows firmer. "You could visit more often. Come for dinner more often."

The ball bounces out of both girls' reach, and the guard at the door tosses it back into play. Loyal only to Breha and the family, they never so much as looked twice at Ahsoka in the palace. "They are sworn to me," Breha said, when Ahsoka first questioned if her presence would be remarked upon. "They have kept many a secret."

Breha refills her cup, then Bail's as he holds it out. The movement brings them both slightly closer to her. Ahsoka allows herself a moment to appreciate the warmth of their arms, their unspoken desire to hold her up. It's been a long time since Ahsoka had someone offer that. She thinks briefly of Kaeden, let down gently for her own safety, even though Ahsoka felt a shiver of _maybe_. 

Maybe someday. For now, Kaeden is busy with her medical studies. Ahsoka lifts her cup and breathes in the fragrant steam, letting it ease her mind. She has nowhere else to be right now, because Bail won't tell her their next move until tomorrow. 

"Leia," Breha calls, when everyone's finished their tea. "Time to put the game away, my dear."

Leia catches the ball and turns off the lights, then links her arm through Shi's. "Goodnight, Mother, Father, Ahsoka."

"Good night, Leia," Ahoska replies, unable to not smile at the girl, unable to not see Padmé's features in hers. Her chest tightens briefly.

"Shall we retire as well?" Bail asks, clearly reading the look on her face. "I think Meysa left a plate of desserts in our chambers, with that cake you like, Ahsoka."

"Bribery," Ahoska says, but stands up. 

In their chambers, she removes the scarf she kept her lekku partially covered with, and leaves it folded on a small table near the doors. There is indeed cake, small decorated squares arranged nicely on a shining platter, along with another carafe of tea. Ahsoka takes a square and drifts around the room, looking at the new artwork that's appeared since she was here last, halfway listening to Breha and Bail discuss the things they both have to accomplish tomorrow. 

"Are you going back to Coruscant soon?" she asks Bail, when she's finished her piece of dessert and her perusal of the light-shifting Alderaanian landscape paintings.

"There's not another session until after Empire Day." He hangs his heavier outer robe on a hook, then frowns. "I'm not sure if there will be anything to legislate anyway."

Ahoska reaches out a hand and touches his cheek. "It's still important you pretend."

"It's nothing more than a farce," he says bitterly. 

"But it's an excellent cover, my love," Breha counters. She's also removed her outer robe, and the light from the pulmonodes spills soft and orange around the neckline of her dress. She sits down in front of a mirror and looks at them both in it, expectantly.

Ahoska beats Bail to it. As she begins to slip pins free of the dark braids woven intricately around Breha's head, she says, "I used to do this for Padmé, sometimes." 

It's the first time she's been able to say it, although she's helped Breha take down her hair a few times before now. "Sometimes the handmaids would look at me funny, like I was doing it wrong. Which I might have been - it's not like I have hair, to know how it works. But even if I accidentally pulled too hard, she never said anything."

Sadness crashes hard into her chest and Ahsoka has to still her hands for a moment, close her eyes, take a deep breath. She's gotten better at letting herself feel it - which is strange to explain that way, she thinks, but she doesn't miss the numbness of the first few years of the Empire. A hand slides over her waist; Bail's, and she leans against him gratefully for a moment, then resumes taking all the pins from Breha's hair.

Once the braids have been freed from their loops and swirls, Ahsoka unweaves them, one by one. It's almost meditative, she thinks, to start at the bottom of each and work her way up. Breha is warm under her fingertips, her shoulders rising and falling gently with each breath. Ahsoka is used to working on machines, lifeless metal pieces that are usually cool to the touch, and used to being alone - so Bail's arms holding her gently from behind as he watches them in the mirror, his breath a warm puff against her montrails, it all feels like a dream she should be waking up from, or maybe a gift she doesn't deserve. 

The ribbons she curls neatly on the tabletop, then Breha presses a comb into her hand. Ahsoka begins to run it through in small sections, parting out each as she goes. "I don't know how to weave it back together, though," she says, tucking a piece forward over Breha's shoulder, letting her fingertips skim lightly over Breha's skin. 

"I can do that part," Bail replies. His fingers mimic the same movements against Ahsoka's lekku for a moment, and she both shivers and smiles back at him. "Here, I'll just - reach around -"

His arms raise warm on either side of her shoulders. Ahsoka watches as he lifts and passes, drawing sections of Breha's hair over and under one another, until a loose braid runs down her back. Ahsoka ties it off carefully with one of the ribbons. Then she leans against Bail, and none of them move for several minutes.

"Would you like to wash up?" Breha asks, reaching up to squeeze Ahsoka's hand and smiling at her in the mirror. "I know that ship of yours is small, and I have some nightclothes you're welcome to borrow."

Nothing sounds better to Ahsoka right now than clean clothes, except maybe getting to crawl into bed with Breha and Bail once she's changed. She feels pleasantly sleepy imagining it. "That would be great."

They move around each other getting ready. It's nice to take her time; it's only when she has a moment to go slowly that Ahsoka realizes how much of her life now is spent being busy, in a hurry, always focused on the next mission or objective. When was the last time she slept a full night? She can't even recall - it was probably the last time Breha suggested she take advantage of a soft bed and stay the night. 

She leaves her clothes folded neatly, with her belt, bracers, and lightsabers on top. The nightshirt Breha gives her is silky, in a pattern Ahsoka recognizes as traditional Alderaanian. It nearly matches Bail's. He grins when he sees it, and the expression makes him look ten years younger. 

Breha sweeps up behind her to fix the back of the nightshirt, hands warm, dressed in an even silkier nightgown that's unlike any material Ahsoka's ever touched before. "Come, you must be tired," Breha says, catching Ahsoka by the elbows and leading her toward the very large, very plush bed. "I hear about how little you sleep, you know."

"You traitor," Ahsoka says to Bail, no heat behind her words. 

"I can't keep secrets from her." He pulls the traditional quilt back and folds it at the end of the bed. "And I've seen what you look like when exhausted, Ahsoka. You push through it, but that doesn't mean we like to see you at your limit."

"It's nice to have someone looking out for me," she admits quietly.

Breha slides between the sheets and pulls Ahsoka after her, and Ahsoka settles into her embrace. Bail turns out the lights, makes sure the door is secure, then slips in on Ahsoka's other side. "I can't have you run intelligence for me and not allow you a night off now and again," he chuckles. Ahsoka feels his hand brush over her right lek. 

"Thank you," she whispers.

Breha's breath is warm against her back. "No, there's no need."

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Before joining their bed, the last soft place she'd slept was probably the quarters she occasionally took on Bail's ship. It's so easy to exhale, and let out all the tension she barely realized she carried most of the time. She feels almost as safe as she used to feel back in the Temple, and the realization brings tears to her eyes. She lets them slip out, hot and silent, her face pressed to Bail's chest. Breha moves closer, curling her body against Ahsoka's from behind, and Bail curves a light hand over her waist. Their legs all tangle together. No one asks her to talk; for that, she's grateful. She can thank them again tomorrow.


End file.
